


Just Stop There

by 0pposing



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Defensively Heterosexual John Watson, Explicit Sexual Content, Oral, Oral Sex, POV Sherlock Holmes, Possessive Sherlock, Rape, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Sherlock Being a Tease, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings, Unrequited Love, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Virgin Sherlock, fast paced
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 20:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0pposing/pseuds/0pposing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John is out with his seemingly other girlfriends, he leaves Sherlock alone at the flat all to himself and his thoughts. But sometimes those thoughts can provoke other actions and Sherlock won't be able to hold in his need for John any longer. He wants to take John anywhere, to have him all to himself and make him feel good. But will John let him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Stop There

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my second fan fiction and I decided to make it really crazy and sexual.  
> Also fast-paced.  
> If you enjoyed it, please feel free to give kudos! By the way, sorry it's so short, I'm still getting accustomed to this.  
> Alsooo, I worked pretty hard on my other stuff and if you guys could go check out my series, that'd be great!  
> :)

"I don't get it." John paced back and forth within the lab. "She _had_ a purse on her, didn't she? I don't understand. Where could it have gone?"

"Oh Dear John, what is it like inside that tiny little head of yours? You're so lucky, sometimes." Sherlock smiled and looked back at Lestrade. "It wasn't a purse. It was a check book. Checks made out to someone of importance, obviously. So whoever she was making her checks out to didn't receive their usual payment, therefor tracking her down and murdering her in cold blood over some bloody money." Sherlock whirled around and looked at John. "And by indications of the bruise marks on her face, I presume it was a man. A man with power but not too much power." Smiling, he whirled to Lestrade. "Check every company nearby that is somewhat well-known and do a bank check on all of them. Text me with the details when you have them. Come John we're leaving."

Sherlock whirled to the door, coat following his movements.

They walked outside, into the semi drizzling rain and Sherlock called a cab over, beckoning for John to get in first. As John was getting in, Sherlock noticed the grey in his hair. He smiled slightly and stopped himself, reversing back to his original casual 'pissed off' look.

_He's getting older. And it's probably me who's causing that. He's in it for the excitement and now his age is becoming him. But it suits him well, he looks good in it._

"Sherlock, do you have any papers for the cab driver? I've let mine at home."

Sherlock nodded and removed his wallet from his coat pocket. "221B Baker Street." The cab began to move and John fell asleep quickly, exhausted from 3 days without rest. The case was near solved and even Sherlock had begun to feel tired. He stared at John, taking in every little detail about him. Dirty jumper, wrinkled brown trousers, and his casual dress shoes and wool socks. Sherlock smiled, now eyeing Johns body. Not clothes, but his body. The incoming wrinkles in his face, his medium-length eyelashes, the fading blonde hair which has probably never touched dye. His lips were partly opened and Sherlock could hear every breath he took; the way he had a slight snore when he took a breath, the inhale through his nose and out the mouth. Sherlock now eyed Johns lower parts. His knees protruding slightly, causing his pants to wrinkly vertical down his legs. His feet were crossed and his hands lay at his sides. Slightly dirty fingernails, veiny hands; perfection. Sherlocks eyes now wandered to Johns middle, eyeing his member, hidden by two layers of fabric.

_I'd have you right here, if I could._

 The cab arrived at their flat and Sherlock gently nudged John and he awoke with a little bit of a startle.

"We're here, wake up." Sherlock gave the papers to the man and exited the car, letting John out behind him.

They both entered the flat and walked upstairs.

"I'm gonna go to sleep. It's been a long couple days." John said and smiled at Sherlock, nodding a bit before turning around and heading up the stairs to his room. "Night." He called back and closed the door behind him. Sherlock sighed and walked into his own room, shutting the door with his foot. Everything was quiet, minus the cars outside passing by. Dim light came in through the windows, from the streetlights and such. Sherlock sat on his chair and started a fire in the fireplace to warm himself. He removed his gloves and rubbed his hands together. Once again, he was bored. Violin didn't interest him right now, neither did studying anything. He wanted John. He wanted to take him right now; remove his clothing with his teeth and tear him apart, piece by teeth. Thinking got him excited and Sherlock threw his head back, groaning quietly.

_I have medicine. Drugs, actually. They could make John fall asleep for a whole day and he would never remember anything. I could get exactly what I want and John would never know._

Sherlock smiled and stood up. It was totally wrong in every way and on so many levels. But it was so right.

He went to the kitchen and got a vial of white pills from one of the cupboards. It was hidden by a bag of crackers. He then removed his coat, throwing it across the room onto the floor. Fingers fumbling, he removed his belt and set it aside on the table. His excitement grew more with every movement he took. Sherlock grabbed the vial and went to the front door, opening it and beginning to walk up to Johns room.

_Bloody hell. Water._

He turned around and went back into the kitchen, filling a cup up with water. He then broke the pill in half, releasing its powdery substance into the water and mixing it around.

_I'll tell him it's for a good sleep._

He went back up the stairs and put his ear next to the door. Nothing. Nothing except for light snoring. Sherlock smiled and turned the doorknob slowly, stepping into the half dark room, the only light being the one from the window. He snuck over to John and sat on the bed.

"John. John wake up. I have medicine for you." John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock.

"Mm..m..?"

"Drink this." Sherlock gave the glass to John and watched him drink the entire glass. "Good. Now sleep tight."

John began to feel dizzy and his stomach felt queasy. "I don't.. what.. what was that?"

"Nothing. Just go to sleep." Sherlock began to undo his pants and unbutton his shirt, throwing both of the articles of clothing onto the floor.

"Sh.. Sherlock.. what're you doing.." His eyes began to close and he struggled to keep them open. "Please.. d-don't."

Sherlock pressed a finger to Johns lips and smiled, now bringing his face down and kissing them softly, rubbing his tongue along Johns teeth and lips. "You'll never even remember this happened." He smiled and slowly pulled back the blankets from John. Unbuttoning Johns own pants, he began to rub up and down along Johns member. John had already faded off into a deep sleep and Sherlock smiled as he felt him get hard. He pulled down Johns pants and smiled at the protruding object. He threw his pants onto the floor and pulled down Johns underwear. He touched his member gently and smiled his little grin.

_How I wish you were awake.._

Sherlock took John into his mouth and closed his eyes.

* * *

"I'm going out." John approached Sherlock with his finest clothes, and even his shoes shined.

"Oh? Where?" Sherlock looked up from the paper and stared at John.

_Oh God. What if he remembers?_

"I have a date!" John smiled and turned around for Sherlock to see how nicely he was dressed.

"Ah. Have fun." Sherlock put the paper back in front of his face, holding jealousy and embarrassment down.

"I'll uh.. I'll be home tonight late. Don't wait up." John turned around and began to walk out, leaving the flat door open for Mrs. Hudson to come check on Sherlock.

"Ahh! Sherlock! You're looking quite healthy today, dearie. Can I make you a cuppa?" She asked and went to the kitchen.

"That'll be fine, Mrs. Hudson. So.. did you happen to see who John was going on a date with? I heard the ring from the front and so she must've been here." Sherlock looked up from the paper again and stood up, walking fast to the window. No sign of either of them. They had already left.

"Oh yes! She had veeery long blonde hair, green eyes, very porcelain features. Absolutely beautiful."

Sherlock felt a frown form on his face. "Why is he always attracted to these.. floozies? To these women who sell themselves so cheap and spend constant hours working on their self image. Why doesn't he try going the other way and find someone who's always been there."

Mrs. Hudson looked at Sherlock sadly. "Oh Sherlock dear.. I'm sure he has feelings for you. And I know you have feelings for him t-"

"I **_DON'T_**   have feelings for him, Mrs. Hudson. Get out." Sherlock snapped at her and she jumped, quickly leaving the room. Sherlock sat back in his chair and began to sigh deeply.

_Come home please.._

He began to image John in his mind again. All his flaws, all his perfections. Everything about him was absolutely delicate and perfect. He wanted to run his fingers through his hair and breathe in every last scent of John, whether it was a musty sweat smell, or his fresh shower smell. It was always appealing and Sherlock wanted to take him everytime his scent crossed his nose.

Sherlock began to grow excited again and smiled. He stood up and closed the door, locking it behind him. He stripped down to his underwear and sat down in his chair, pulling his cock out of his pants and starting to stroke it gently.

* * *

The door shut downstairs and Johns footsteps were silent coming up the stairs. He began to unlock the door and he stepped in. Sherlock was laying on the couch, face down, sleeping soundly. His shirt and pants were missing, but his socks and underwear remained. John smiled and approached Sherlock, sitting on the coach next to him, moving the hair away from his face.

"mm..m" Sherlock smiled in his sleep. "Mm.. John.. you're home." His eyes opened and he looked at John. "How was the date?" He sat up and brought his knees to his chest.

"Ehh.. not very good. She wasn't very exciting. Car girl. She would NOT stop talking about cars." He sighed and stood up.

"Well at least you're home early. Want to get dinner?" Sherlock looked up at him and began to fantasize about him again.

"Ehh, actually, no thanks. I think I just want to watch telly." John walked over to his chair and sat down, removing his shoes. Sherlock then stood up and pulled on his pants, attempting to look half decent.

"That's fine." He smiled and pulled on his shirt, buttoning it up. "Want some tea?"

"Yeah that'd be nice." John turned on the telly as Sherlock walked into the kitchen and made a cup for him and John. He made it the way John loved it, he memorized exactly what John wanted in it.

Sherlock couldn't remember the Earth went around the Sun, but he knew exactly how John liked his tea.

He returned with the tea and handed one to John. His phone beeped in his pocket and took it out.

Lestrade

'It was a local newspaper editor. Apparently she was paying him to keep certain things out of the paper. But the payments stopped coming and she wouldn't reply to his emails, texts, anything. So he went to her house outside of England and shot her in the head.'

'Ahhh. Have you arrested him? SH'

'About to.'

Sherlock put his phone back into his pocket. "They found the killer, John. Case solved for real now." He smiled and took a sip of his tea. "John..?"

John sat in the chair silently and stared into the TV. "You know.. I had the weirdest dream the other night and you were in it.. you were doing things for me.." He looked at Sherlock suspiciously. "Did something happen, Sherlock?"

"No. I was asleep, you know that. Exhausted from 3 days of no sleep. Maybe you just were thinking weird." He smirked.

"I'm not gay!" He shouted, almost spilling his tea.

"Defensive, defensive." Sherlock smiled and put his mouth next to Johns ear. "Now John, can you think back? Think back to last night.. can you recall anything.. strange? Maybe that drink I gave you? Remember how woozy you felt? How you remember almost nothing. You thought it was a dream." Sherlock smiled and kissed Johns neck slowly. John turned red and began to sweat.

"Sh-Sherlock? That was you?!" He jumped up and backed away against the kitchen table. Sherlock approached him fast, pinning him down on the table, his hands above his head.

"Yes. Surprise!" He laughed and nibbled on Johns ear, John turning redder with every second. "I hope you know.. this will be my first time." Sherlock smiled and looked at Johns shocked face.

"No.. no way! I'm not doing this for you. This isn't right, Sherlock.." He gulped and looked at Sherlock. "This.. isn't.. right.. right?" Furrowing his brows, he closed his eyes. "I'm so confused... Why do I feel like we should do this, but shouldn't.."

"Because we should. It's right. The chemistry works. It-"

"God dammit Sherlock, for once, can you not think about science?! This is obviously not a matter of science, it's a matter of feeling and what we feel inside. Not what makes up the chemical reactions when we get excited, or happy or jealous or any other bloody feeling! Why do you not understand that?" He struggled to get Sherlocks grip off of him, but Sherlock was taller and stronger.

"Stay still and let me make you feel good." Sherlock took off his shirt, releasing his grip on John, but John had relaxed. It was better to just give in. John stared at Sherlocks pale chest, his defined complexion and muscles, his faint chest hair and the blue veins running wild in his arms like tree branches, extending up his neck and disappearing. This was what beauty looked like. This was what perfection was supposed to be. Gentle and pale, with bright eyes and dark hair. If you were to look up perfection in the Oxford Dictionary, Sherlock would surely be there.

John let Sherlock undo his pants and took off his own cardigan sweater. Sherlock rubbed Johns chest, taking in every last feel of him and drawing in his scent through his nose. "God you smell so delicious." He began to kiss the lower bit of Johns stomach, taking in large breaths with every kiss, moving ever so slowly upwards and towards Johns lips. His mouth met Johns and he began to kiss him roughly, grabbing the back of Johns head and running his finger through his hair. Sherlocks tongue explored every thing in his mouth, every tooth, every part of his tongue. He wanted more. He slipped off Johns pants and let them slip onto the floor, removing his shoes while doing so. "Follow me." Sherlock walked away, leaving John standing there, shocked.

Sherlock walked into his bedroom, turning the bedside lamp on. It was just bright enough to where they could see, but not too bright to where it would ruin the mood. "Lay down." Sherlock commanded and pointed towards the bed. John obeyed and laid on his back, facing towards the ceiling. "O-okay.. now what?" He asked and looked at Sherlock, tilting his head to the side.

"I'm going to make you feel good." Sherlock pulled down Johns underwear now, smiling at his erection. He gave no warning and took John into his mouth again for the second time. John moaned but silenced himself after, struggling not to make much noise. His hands clenched at the sheets beside him and he shut his eyes tight, leaving his lips parted. Sherlock smiled and began to move his tongue around the tip, then took much more of John in. With every up and down movement, Sherlock used his hand to follow his mouth, stroking at caressing at the same speed as the other.

"Oh Sherlock.." He mumbled under his breath. "I.. I love you."

Sherlock smiled gladly right as John released another moan. He crawled on top of John, removing his own underwear in the process and began to rub against his erection with his own. Kissing Johns neck and nibbling on his ear a bit, his hand began to feel its way down and he began to stroke John slowly but harsh, making John squirm beneath him until he finally came. A sigh of happiness came from below Sherlock and he then rolled to his side. John sat up, grabbing tissue from the bedside and removing the gooey substance of his own that sat on his stomach. Sherlock smiled and closed his eyes. "Goodnight, John Watson." He pulled the blankets over him.

"Goodnight, Sherlock Holmes.. I love you.." There was no reply, but John didn't need one. He smiled and threw the tissue away and got under the covers with Sherlock, facing him and smiling.

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"I love you too." But John was already asleep, his head nuzzled into Sherlocks chest and dead to the world. Sherlock was peaceful now. This was his John. His Dr. John Watson and would be forever. But no one could know. Not Mycroft, not Mrs. Hudson, not Lestrade or anyone. John was his little secret.

* * *

It was morning now. Sherlock was already out of the bed and in the kitchen. John pulled on some socks and trousers, along with a thin sweater and went to join Sherlock out in the living room.

"Goodmorning." Sherlock said, handing him a napkin with a biscuit on it, and a cuppa tea.

"Morning, Sherlock. You're looking quite good this morning." He smirked and sipped his tea.

"Yes, I feel quite good too." He sat down and opened the morning paper.

"Boys! I brought you some special cookies from the bakery!" Mrs. Hudson walked in through the door, setting down a silver platter filled with at least a dozen cookies. "I got them for free because.. uhm.. special discount." She blushed. "I'll leave you two alone now, dearies." She exited the room quickly and shut the door behind her.

"So have any plans today?" Sherlock said behind the sheet of the newspaper.

"No I was just planning to stay in with you today. The weathers not so good anyways. We could cuddle and have some coffee, watch the telly. Put on a movie, you know." John smiled but it quickly faded due to Sherlock not answering. "Sherlock..? Are you upset about last night?" No answer. "Sherlock..?"

"John. Shut. Up." A slight laugh came from behind the paper and John pulled it down, finally noticing his cheeks were bright pink.

"Ohhh, I get it! You're embarrassed. You don't have to be. I understand. It was your first ti-... sort of. At least while I was awake." John chuckled and pulled up a chair next to Sherlock.

"Stop right there. To answer your question, yes we can stay in and watch telly if you'd like, but if a case comes up, then you know what will happen." Sherlock kissed Johns cheek and stood up, walking over to their two chairs.

After years of trying, years of trying to get John to notice what he had felt for him, he had finally done it and now everything was good. Sherlock was still married to his work, but he had someone who was equally devoted to something. It just happened to be him. And Sherlock was oh, so happy. For the first time since his childhood and pretending to be a pirate, he was happy. And for once, he didn't try to solve it with chemistry. He just let it happen. And that was the best part. John also just let it happen. He didn't understand why it happened, but he didn't care. It already happened. And John was equally happy.

* * *

 


End file.
